


Starving For You; A Desperado's Song

by soulmateswinchesters



Series: wicked game!verse [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean is 21, Guilty Sam Winchester, M/M, Obsessive Dean, Possessive Dean, Raised Apart, Sam is 17, Serial Killer Dean Winchester, Slightly Masochistic Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:28:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25825120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulmateswinchesters/pseuds/soulmateswinchesters
Summary: With his eyes closed, he could feel it all again; dismay and anxiety taking control over his body. The touch of cold steel against his throat and its promise of death and pain.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: wicked game!verse [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1241081
Comments: 8
Kudos: 56





	Starving For You; A Desperado's Song

It's not like Sam was used to only having good dreams before but lately there was pretty much nothing but nightmares when he fell asleep. With his eyes closed, he could feel it all again; dismay and anxiety taking control over his body. The touch of cold steel against his throat and its promise of death and pain.

But they weren't really that bad, the nightmares. 

  
He saw them as a constanst reminder that even if it meant danger, he was no longer on his own and as much as he hated to admit to it, that did comfort him in a strange way.

  
Dean was eveywhere, always keeping his eyes on Sam. He could feel his brother's gaze following his every move; night and day. It was like Dean wanted to learn everything he could about Sam, memorizing the way he responded to certain situations, studying his body language. And honestly, it wasn't even that disturbing, most of the time. His brother didn't want to scare him and he seemed to be holding all his darker urges on a leash. It looked like he was doing it effortlessly, too and it was impossible not to fall for his charm. And even tough Dean's eyes were constantly on Sam, it seemed like there was no predator looking at him behind that green gaze. But he wasn't stupid. He remembered their first meeting way too clearly to ever think there was no violence in his brother, the memories of that night vivid in his brain.

  
Yet, he still slept in this man's arms evey night. 

  
Their first shared morning he couldn't be more grateful for the fact that Dean was taking a shower when he woke up, instead of still laying next to him. If it wasn't for that, he was positive he would vomit. The memories of what they did, of what he had asked Dean to do to him were burning him alive, killing him from the inside. Sam felt blood rushing to both his cheeks and his dick and the taste of puke in his mouth; the vision of his pathetic self, _begging_ his long-lost brother to desecrate his insides burned into his head. 

  
No matter how much he showered after that, Sam felt like he would never wash off the filth.

  
Dean, on the other hand, didn't seem to be affected by any of it. He didn't even say anything when he saw Sam that morning, just ruffled his hair and gave him a smile. 

  
Sam tried not to shiver from the touch. 

  
It was hard to pretend that it was just a normal morning between siblings but he tried his best to fool himself into seeing it that way. Dean borrowed him some more clothes, told him to get dressed and they did actually go to the nearby grocery store to buy milk and Lucky Charms.

  
And all this time, Dean never failed to take his breath away. 

  
He looked like the living example of Da Vinci's perfect man. He smiled at the cashier, a nice looking woman in her forties, and Sam felt like the whole room had gotten a little brighter. 

  
It made him feel mental how he wanted to keep all his brother's smiles to himself.

  
Nevertheless, the smiles he gave to strangers could never compare to the ones Sam recieved from him. Just thinking about it, he would start to feel dizzy. Without ever saying a word, his sibling was confessing his allegiance to Sam with a single look of his eyes. They seemed to light up every time he first saw him in the morning, when he was eating breakfast with his brother, looking at him from the other side of the motel's tiny table. Every second of every day they spent together, those alluring eyes were always there. Dean looked at him like he was the most precious thing to ever exist, like he would die protecting him and kill anyone who ever touched him. 

  
Sam had no doubts killing wouldn't be a problem for Dean.

  
Sometimes it was so intense that he felt like he was going to faint; his limbs suddenly too weak to keep him standing. 

  
Sam just couldn't not believe the adoration in his brother's eyes. _The love_.

  
But he wasn't delusional, not enough not to notice the insanity in said brothetr's gaze. Dean could probably easily fool most people but Sam had already seen his darkness, nearly fell victim to it. And sometimes, he could see it looking right at him through that crazy devotion in the man's chartreuse eyes; the devotion Sam couldn't quite understand yet but didn't try to fight. 

  
They left California just a few days after their first meeting and he didn't protest, didn't even question it. There was no use in fighting and it's not like he had a real home to go back to. Besides, no matter how crazy it seemed, his brother looked actually happy and Sam found his mood to be quite infectious. 

  
Dean found them a motel to stay at and at first, Sam felt a sudden wave of nausea, looking at the one, single bed in the room. 

  
But then nothing happened. 

  
Dean held him close, big brother's arms tightly wrapped around him and like that, they went to sleep. It took Sam some time to calm down and stop his heart from racing but he couldn't really fight this kind of affection. He felt hysterical, wanted to laugh at himself but he felt _safe_ in Dean's arms. 

  
Since then, pretty much all of their nights looked this way. 

  
Sometimes he could hear Dean mumble little promises to him, always repeating how he would take care of Sam, always keep him close and safe. He tried to ignore how it made his heart beat noticeably faster whenever Dean got more posessive with his promises, calling Sam 'his', assuring him he would never let go of him. Sometimes he would play with Sam's hair, call him 'sweetheart', 'Sammy' _(always Sammy, never Sam)_ and leave tiny kisses on his head. 

  
Once, Sam was already falling asleep when he heard his brother humming Led Zeppelin's 'Going To California' into the darkness of the night. It made him open his eyes in surprise at first but then, he somehow found it much easier to fall asleep with that melody stuck in his mind.

  
In the end, it was always him falling asleep in his brother's arms. 

  
And Dean never initiated anything.

  
The first morning in their new motel, referring to Sam's reaction to the single bed, he told Sam during breakfast that, most of the time, it was much cheaper to travel like that but that they could get a different room next time if Sam wanted to. It was obvious that he wanted Sam to be comfortable around him, still very cautious around his little brother. It all cooled down after that first night. All the emotions surrounding their reunion seemed more bearable now, both of them acting more reasonable. Sam might have not understood Dean's intentions with him but he tried his best not to worry about it too much. It's not like he's been kidnapped, after all - he liked the promise of home and he couldn't not take it.

  
In all honesty, he thought that maybe Dean just needed him while falling asleep, never loosening his hold, murmuring little nothings to Sam's ear. It seemed to soothe him and, truth being told, maybe it's the both of them that needed that kind of comfort.

  
They haven't actually talked about his brother's... lifestyle. 

  
Or about the way he makes money and how he pays for everything. 

  
In fact, they haven't really done much talking at all and altough Sam liked how things were a little calmer now then they were in the beginning – a whole fucking lot calmer, actually – it irked him that Dean was hiding so much from him, being so careful around Sam. Of course, Sam hasn't been very open about a lot of things either but it's not like he could just ignore what he's seen from Dean before. And Dean, of course, seemed to be perfectly aware of it, hence his behavior. 

  
They went everywhere together. Dean would wait for him next to the door to the gas station's toilet, take him out to cheap diners everyday, go grocery shopping with him and always, _always_ keep his eyes on Sam.

  
And for whatever reason, Sam didn't really mind it that much. At first it felt overwhelming but he started to enjoy the man's presence. It was good to finally have someone to keep him company and Dean was more than just _someone_. He was actually funny with the jokes he told Sam and the waitresses when they were in public, he was smart, otherwordly beautiful and could be absolutely _terrifying_. Obsessive. Intense, just on the edge of too much.

  
And if it didn't sound completely insane, maybe Sam would admit to himself that he was probably, slowly falling in love with him.

  
Sam looked at his brother eating his burger across the motel's table.

"Dean?" he asked, his voice a little weak and uncertain. The man looked up at him; a tiny smile dancing on his lips just at the sound of his name on Sam's tongue. "How come you have money to pay for the motels and food?"

  
His brother gave him a calculating look, trying to read his face. He must have decided there were no bad intentions behind that question becuase he took a sip of his beer and answered him.

  
"Let's say I'm really good at playing the pool," he said and gave Sam a deadly smile, showing off some of his white teeth. Sam felt his cheeks getting warmer just looking at his brother's face. Dean took another sip of his beer and continued, completely honest with him. "It can be many different things, you know? More or less legal." He stopped to think about it for a second. "Well, yeah. Mostly illegal."

  
Honestly, hustling pool didn't seem too bad. Altough Sam was pretty sure that some of these 'many different things' were probably much worse than that. But he didn't push it.

  
"Why are you asking? Interested in helping me with feeding you?" Dean joked; a soft smile on his lips.

  
Sam shook his head.

  
"I was just curious." 

  
He looked out of the window, not knowing what else to say. In a way, he wanted to get to know Dean better. He wanted the ugly truth becuase he hated the facade. It might have made some things easier but it wasn't real. And maybe Dean wasn't exactly lying to him but even tough Sam hated feeling that way, he missed the adrenaline. He liked Dean's possesivness. There might have been a hell lot of guilt and shame related to that but he needed to feel that again. He needed more of Dean, his insanity, his touch (even if it almost always gave him goosebumps. Or maybe especially then). 

  
He was getting more frustrated with every passing day. Everything started to feel more and more surreal and even tough he had experienced Dean's violence first hand, sometimes it was just too easy to forget he was living with a murderer, too damn easy to lean into Dean's touch and it looked like some kind of a sick fucking joke but he wanted some of that darkness — wanted it for himself, to have it consume him. He was torn apart on the inside and it really started to mess with his head.

  
Dean's quiet groan brought Sam back to Earth.

  
_"Fuck."_

  
His brother's voice made him shiver and he realized he's been bitting on his lower lip for the last minute or so. It looked like Dean didn't even mean to say it; his voice so quiet, talking more to himself than to Sam. If it wasn't for Sam's reaction, he probably would not realize he actually said it out loud.

  
Dean's eyes were focused on Sam's lower lip and in that moment, they were burning with passion.

  
"Did I do something?" Sam asked him, trying to sound unbothered. He had a feeling that he failed miserably.

  
"Don't know. Did you?" Dean asked him with a smirk, getting a grip of himself and relaxing a bit but still not trying to cover anything, thank God. Not pretending he wasn't just hungirly staring at his brother's lips.

  
And there was still fire in his eyes.

  
When his own gaze met those eyes, a quiet moan, one you could barely hear, escaped Sam's mouth. Dean's smile got a little wider at that. Sam took a deep breath, already feeling the wave of self hatred that would come at him later, cursed himself in his toughts and reached for Dean's beer. Dean gave him a questioning look, rising an eyebrow at him but didn't say anything. Without too much thinking, Sam drank some of the alcohol and prayed that Dean wouldn't notice how his whole body was shaking at the moment. He knew the beer wouldn't do much but he wanted something that would give him at least a little courage, even if it was all just in his head. 

  
He got up from his chair and, filled with uncertainty, he slowly started walking in Dean's direction. His brother's eyes never left him, following Sam's moves with curiosity and something Sam couldn't quite describe. Still sitting on the chair, Dean opened his arms wide for his little brother and gave him an encouraging smile. So Sam sat in his lap.

  
Dean immediately closed his arms arond the boy and Sam could feel it all then. The warmth of his skin, the warm breath againt his neck, the smile forming on Dean's lips when he finally spoke.

  
"Gotta say, you're kinda a riddle to me, Sammy."

  
Sam snorted at that and layed his head on Dean's shoulder, trying to relax.

  
"Do you have any idea how hard it is to get inside _your_ head?" he asked him and recieved a laugh in response. It was a beautiful sound but he could sense a hint of danger in it.

  
"I don't think you'd like to go on that tour, kiddo. Be glad you dont have to."

  
Sam pulled away from him, just enough to look him in the eyes and he didn't miss how, at first, Dean tightened his grip, wanting to keep him as close as possible. Sam chose to ignore that.

  
"Actually, I'd like that very much."

  
Dean gave him another serious look and put his hands on Sam's hips. 

  
"I already told you it doesn't have anything to do with you, Sam." _Sam, not Sammy._ "Cut it out." 

  
It sounded like an order and Sam felt a lovely rush of adrenaline he was waiting for. He accepted the challange.

  
"Funny, since if I remember correctly, you were going to kill me just about two weeks ago, so, yeah, it has something to do with me" he said, his voice filled with the frustration that's been bugging him in the last couple of days, a shadow of anger hidden behind it.

  
No more pretending nothing happened. 

  
And Dean actually fucking _growled_.

  
"You're not one of them." Sam wasn't even sure if his brother was talking to him or to himself. He felt a shiver go down his spine. "You mean something." 

  
But Dean's grip on his hips got even tighter and, yeah, maybe Sam was important to him in a way but he definietely couldn't be too fragile in his eyes, being handled like that. 

  
"Dean..." he said calmly, trying to control his feelings, "I want you to be honest with me. I already _saw_ you, you can't deny that forever!" He tought he heard Dean mumble something that sounded like 'try me' but the sound was too quiet for him to be certain. "I'm not fucking scared of you."

  
His brother smiled a little at that statement, mostly to himself, with his eyes closed, slowly shaking his head.

  
"Aren't you?" He made it sound like a threat, opening his eyes to look at Sam's face. "Get up," he ordered him, letting go of his brother's hips.

  
Sam did as he was told, no signs of rebellion this time. 

  
Dean got up from the chair as well and all of a sudden, Sam felt very, very small in Dean's shadow. His brother took a step towards him, confident of every move he was making and Sam had to sit down on the table because he knew he would just fall on the floor otherwise.

  
Dean leaned down a little, lips almost brushing his ear, "Do you think I can't feel you tremble in the night everytime I put my arms around you? Can't feel you shiver from any unexpected touch? Hear your heartbeat go faster when I'm just a little bit too close?" Sam was surprised by how fast his breathing had gotten so uneaven. Dean half snorted-half laughed at him. "Exactly."

  
"But would you hurt me?" Sam tried his very best to sound unbothered and relatively calm. "Like you hurt other people?"

  
The older man stroked his little brother's face. He tought that Sammy had to be the only person who looked just _perfect_ alive. His slightly red cheeks, the warmth of his skin, his racing heart; Dean saw heaven in his brother's face and he knew it was the only heaven he would ever get to experience.

  
But heaven didn't matter and neither did the God who didn't exist, _couldn't_ exist or just simply didn't care. Sam was here and he was everything he ever needed. 

  
His soul, his family. His own piece of heaven.

  
"Never, Sammy."

  
Sam looked at him with sweet innocence in his eyes; Dean's own salvation, still so pure and bright.

  
"I know it's not exactly normal or sane by any means but I do enjoy being with you," Sam said after a few silent seconds and looked his brother in the eyes. "And maybe you really are too much for me but I _do_ want you." He stopped for a few seconds, trying to get his toughts together, visibly nervous. "And even scared for my own life, shocked and terrified, I still needed it, that first night. Needed you to make me fucking _feel_." Sam whined, closing his eyes. "Even if it makes me a freak and even if I can't handle what comes after.

  
Dean couldn't fight the quiet moan that left his mouth at the sound of Sam's words, so he just leaned down to kiss his boy on the lips; doing it slowly, still careful, not wanting to ruin anything. He felt Sammy's soft lips underneath his own and he almost felt like crying when Sam kissed him back. And Dean never cried.

  
He moved back a little bit, averted his gaze to look outside the window and Sam could see him almost losing control; losing in his own game, struggling to stay in character and not break the role. He wanted to rip the mask off of Dean's face but he realized he didn't have to. It was already slowly falling to the ground on its own and the sudden feelings of anticipation hit him like a truck.

  
"You really don't have to..." Dean tried to reason with him, his eyes focused on something on the motel's parking lot; expression unreadable.

  
"I know. I want to."

  
Dean finally looked at him and his eyes light up just enough to let Sam feel some satisfaction at that little change in his brother's face.

  
"So you really want a piece of me that bad, huh?" 

  
"Doesn't everybody?" Sam said playfully. It was true, tough. Dean was like a magnet; people fell under his charm the way moths would always fly into the fire and maybe Sam wasn't that different, after all.

  
The older man smirked at him, took a smooth step back and Sam didn't even have time to react when he felt Dean slam him against the wall, his back meeting Dean's chest.

  
He felt the man's hips against his back, his lips hungrily kissing on the back of Sam's neck and Sam had to smile with satisfaction.

  
It was all deliciously overwhelming; the feel of Dean getting hard against his flesh, big brother's lips on his sweaty skin. Close to no free space left between them, it was almost claustrophobic. Sam had promblems breathing but in that moment, he would just happily suffocate.

  
Dean smiled against him, amused with himself and bit the spot on his brother's neck that he was kissing just seconds ago and pinned Sam to the wall with his hips. He wrapped his hand against Sammy's throat, slowly adding more and more pressure and Sam wanted to beg him;

  
_harder, please._

  
Sam leaned into his touch; a broken cry of pleasure escaping his throat. He gripped that hand but didn't try to take it away. 

  
Dean sighed, satisfied, with a smile on his face. Fully content.

  
His strong grip was starting to make Sam feel dizzy but it felt strangely safe, soothing in a way and Sam wanted to sigh with pleasure but he could barely make any sound. He craved all Dean had to offer even if he couldn't know what would it actually be; even if Dean himself couldn't know that. Sam remembered that those fingers, wrapped so tightly around his neck, were tainted with blood and just for a moment, he wished he could bleed for Dean, too.

  
Suddenly, Dean's hand wasn't choking him anymore and Sam didn't know what to do with the ability to breath again. Every breath he took caused him pain, leaving a sweet burn in his throat and he chose to focuse on that feeling for a while. 

  
Both Dean's hands were slowly stroking his sides now. Sam loved how even through that seemingly gentle touch he could still feel the man's dominance. He looked down at the tent in his pants, surprised that he didn't notice it before.

  
He heard Dean murmur behind him in a low voice and slowly turned around.

  
His brother's eyes were dark and big, not resembling the usual sunshine-green at all. It was a nice look at him, Sam tought. It suited the man.

  
"Mine," Dean whispered calmly, his mellow voice filled with affection and Sam almost shivered. "Looks like I got myself a little masochist, huh? Lucky me." He smiled fondly at the younger Winchester and once kissed him once again . "Go get decent, I'll see you in a minute," Dean told him and went to the bathroom.

  
Sam tried really hard not to think about his brother masturbating in the shower they shared, painting the tiles with his cum.

  
He felt miserably at that, too.

  
He knew it wasn't normal. He knew it was an impulse that he acted on, taking all the risk. Dean wanted him, he had evidence of that and suddenly, he could no longer resist, could not pretend some part of him didn't want his brother too.

  
It was not easy, wanting Dean. He could barely admit to it unless he would already get so desperate he could no longer resist, ready to beg and scream and drown in the feeling of Dean; this new, wicked version of the home that he never had.

  
He liked being at Dean's mercy, was drunk on it. There was something both thrilling and soothing about his brother's touch which made Sam desperately need him, need the killer he was. A need that he couldn't run away from; once he located it in his body, he was already an addict. 

  
He was sick of the new found hunger he felt for his brother. 

  
Codependence; it got them the second they met, even if they didn't know it at first. 

  
Sam tought of the very few friends he made at school, about all the random people who used to be a part of his life and he knew he didn't ever deserve their pity. 

  
He tought of the jocks from his highschool, those close minded bullies, and after all, they were the only ones who got it right. 

  
They knew better not to touch him, to not even talk to him; the word 'freak' ringing in his head. 

  
It almost gave him a headache.

  
He could still hear water running in the shower and he didn't want Dean to come out just yet. He wanted to act... normal. As normal as he could, at least. The idea of freaking out in front of his brother yet again made him feel absolutely pathetic. How could he be the sane one? He initiated this, gave Dean his consent and so much more, actually provoked the man, for God's sake.

  
He's always had some of these... needs. Silly little needs and toughts, they were all living things in his own, sick, fantasy world. Something he could never trully have but practically carried in his back pocket all the time, taking it eveywhere he went. His very own coping mechanism that he just could not leave behind; a dream of fulfilment

  
But it wasn't a fantasy.

  
Sam wasn't a sixteen year old girl, asking her boyfriend to try something kinky, thinking she's something else because she enjoys being choked a little. Dean's hands were not made for such scenarios; strong and confident and Dean knew exactly how to use them for all the bad and the dirty. How to take a life in a matter of seconds. There was power in these hands. 

  
Sam wasn't a teenager on her first vacation with her sweet boyfriend, daydreaming about him getting a little rougher. And Dean wasn't his boyfriend.

  
He was not beaming with hope, full of romance and roses, willing to try out new things.

  
He was no stranger to real violence — it lived inside of him.

  
Dean wasn't his boyfriend, he was his _brother_. And their romance was covered in blood. 

  
Sam wanted to laugh at it but he couldn't. He fell for Dean's darkness, gave up the leftovers of his own innocence just to witness some of it. The more he saw, the more he wanted and the less he could handle. 

  
No, it wasn't a fantasy. 

  
It was blood and a trail of lifeless bodies. It was broken hearts and broken bones his brother left behind him. All scarlet, all horrifying, wrong on so many levels. And Sam was a part of it now. 

  
He encouraged it, ignoring the truth in the name of his own relief. And he had absolutely no reasonable excuse. 

  
Just fucked up. Guilty. 

  
He doomed himself because he wanted to; self-centered and blinded with greed. Always more, more and _more_. No matter the consequences, he only cared about chasing his own gratification, cared more about being able to finally feel alive than about the lifes of the innocent.

  
There was no excuse for Sam because he wasn't even trying to change who he was, what he wanted. He wanted _everything_ , already having much more than he ever deserved. It made fim think about Dean, about his mental health and maybe Sam really was the monster here. 

  
Dean tried not to give in to Sam's curiosity, wanted to keep him out of his own mess and Sam still begged him pitifully, would get on his knees if he'd get desperate enough.

  
Sam gritted his teeth. 

  
It hurt, the harsh truth. The spell was broken and without the illusion, Sam couldn't look at himself, didn't even want to think about who he was.

  
It hurt but not in a good way and he deserved it. It was almost funny how he found himself living with a murderer and still came out as the worse person. 

  
At first he didn't even realize he stood up from the bed but, _oh God_ , he needed some air. All kinds of mixed feelings were playing with his mind and Sam started to feel physically sick.

  
He hated the things he would do to get his way, how egocentric he seemed to be. 

  
Hated how Dean was trying to be good to him and how it didn't really look like he was faking it at all. How absolutely over the moon he looked when he was talking to Sam, even if his knuckles were always slightly bruised and his bright eyes filled with dreams of violence.

  
And he absolutely fucking hated that when he finally, irrevocably found himself obsessing over someone, it had to be his own flesh and blood.

  
It was already dark outside and he just wanted everything to _stop_ for a second. So he could think. He had already grabbed the door handle when he heard his brother behind him.

  
"Where the fuck are you going?"

  
Sam turned around. Dean was there, standing fully clothed in the bathroom's door and Sam knew that was it. Sam got to see behind the curtains and Dean looked dangerous; enraged and betrayed. The look in his brother's eyes and the tone of his voice gave Sam goosebumps.

  
He felt scared, for a second. Then the anger hit him.

  
"Out, Dean," he said sarcastically "I'm going _out_ , as you can see."

  
Dean didn't seem to move but his fists twitched a little bit.

  
"Like hell you're going out." And Sam could not understand why the sound of Dean's voice was doing that to him. It left no room for discussion; it was resolute and cold and Sam almost wanted to give in but he let it fill him with hysteric rage instead.

  
"You don't fucking own me, Dean" he snapped and quickly opened the door with one move. "Nobody does! And even if I, what, wanted to go get shitfaced in some random bar? If I wanted to go back to California right now? It's my fucking right to do so!"

  
"Sam," Dean warned him through clenched teeth "Don't. Move."

  
"Yeah, right," he said and took the first step. And then the next two. And more. He let himself be lead by his anger and he no longer cared what would come next. Dean was following him, shouting something he couldn't quite understand and only when he started to run he had realized he was crying, his vision blurry with tears. 

  
It was surprisingly cold and rather dark. The motel's parking lot was practically empty and Sam had no idea where he was going. 

  
All of a sudden, the only thing he could hear was the sound of tires screeching as he landed on the cold, hard ground, hit more by shock than the car. It only hurt a little and he had to blink a few times to take a proper look at the vehicle in front of him. 

  
A young man stepped out of the car, visibly shaking. He couldn't be older than twenty one. He was wearing a frat hoodie, his blonde hair all messy and falling to his eyes. From what Sam could tell, he seemed to be built quiet nicely, too, looking like a perfect example of a stereotypical frat boy. When he moved closer, he smelt like beer.

  
"Oh my God, man, I'm so sorry, are you okay? I swear, I only had one beer or tw-"

  
Sam wanted to answer, tell him it was fine but someone took the driver by his clothes before he even had a chance to process what was going on. 

  
He felt suddenly paralyzed at the sound of Dean's voice.

  
"You shouldn't get behind the wheel even after half a can, scumbag," he said in a ferocious voice through clenched teeth. Sam wanted to tell him to stop, to let the man go but he couldn't find his voice. Dean looked furious, still holding the driver by his clothes; his arms shaking, yet locked in a strong, deadly grip and Sam wasn't the only one getting scared at his sight.

  
The Frat Boy opened his mouth, trying to apologize once again, his terrified eyes locked on Dean. 

  
"Look, Ive got money, let's-"

  
And then came the first punch, right in the gut. 

  
The man coughed, groans of pain coming out of his mouth as he tried to take a step back. But he couldn't make a move. Dean's left hand was on the nape of his neck; long fingers immobilizing him, bruising the skin.

  
Another punch to the gut.

  
"You fucking piece of shit, you shouldn't ever get your driving license. Or maybe you don't even have one?" Dean loosened his grip on the man's neck, letting him fall to the ground. "Hope you won't drive after tonight anymore," he finished the sentence by spitting in the man's face. Dean kneeled above him and then he really started hitting him. _Hard._

  
The man couldn't move. Everytime he'd try to, he would be stopped with more punches, somehow only getting more violent with every second, always precise, so they would cause the most damage and pain. He was gasping for air in between the litany of them, desperately trying to mumble what could only be a prayer with tears shining in his eyes, running down his face — all over it.

  
It was getting harder to notice them, tough; the man's face all bruised and swollen.

  
One could barely see the tears anymore when they were blending with blood. 

  
Sam watched his brother in terror, eyes wide and shocked because seeing _this_ was completely different than just thinking about what his brother was capable of, than just knowing it, dreaming about it. Dean was driven by pure rage, didn't even look fully human at the moment and Sam wasn't sure the driver could even still be conscious at that point. 

  
"Dean..." 

  
Nothing.

  
"Dean, please..."

  
He could hear Dean's breathing getting louder. And he wasn't stopping, not yet.  
"Dea-" He flinched at what had to be the sound of a bone breaking. Dean stilled, looking down at the person he had just beat unconscious. "We should call an ambulance, he might not make it if we don't..."

  
Sam watched his brother get up. He gave one last look to the body on the ground.

  
"Good," he said.

  
He finally turned to his little brother and Sam quickly studied his face. He was searching for anger but couldn't find any. Dean looked serious, almost emotionless and Sam felt way too weak to stand up. The older man started slowly walking in his direction. It was almost too slow, like if he was calculating his every move, never taking his eyes off Sam. He kneeled in front of him, gently cupping his cheek with his right hand. 

  
"Sammy..." And despite everything, he must have felt weak, too. Defeated. With absolute devotion and sincere eyes, he looked at Sam who almost shivered under that gaze.

  
"Dean, I really think we should make a call, he-"

  
"Shut up, Sammy," his brother interrupted him in soft voice, never looking back at the motionless body behind him. "Just shut up."

  
Sam let out a quiet sigh, pointlessly trying to get his breathing under control. He took a look at his brother. His shirt was now painted red with blood and so were Dean's hands. He leaned in to his touch anyway, letting him paint his cheek red, too.

  
"I just..." Sam looked at him, vulnerable. "I wanted to get some fresh air. To think. I would probably just sit on the other side of the door."

  
"Jesus, Sammy, I know," Dean said, stroking his cheek again, "I know, baby." There was a short pause after that. "I'm not holding you hostage, okay? Right? You and me, I want us to be _equals_ , Sammy! And it means you can't just, fuck, walk out on me like that!"

  
"It has nothing to do with equality if I can't even step a foot out of the motel without you reacting like that!"

  
"Oh, come on, Sam! Sometimes you just don't get shit, do you?" Dean hissed at him, frustrated and averted his gaze for a moment. "Don't you see? I can't lose you! I do want to make you the happiest person on the planet, Sammy, really, give you the whole fucking world but," he looked him dead serious in the eyes and countined, voice firm, "I _won't_ lose you. Ever."

  
And for the first time, Dean took a look at the collage boy behind him.

  
"I won't apologize for that, never will. Fucker deserved that."

  
"But he didn't actually hurt me, you know? Nothing happened."

  
Dean snorted at that.

  
"Well, yeah, he was drinking and driving and that's already bad enough. 'Won't let a drunk idiot fuck everything up again." Sam could feel Dean's anger peeking through his voice. The trauma was there and maybe, just maybe, he had no right to judge him.

  
Dean closed his eyes, trying to take control over his own emotions again. 

  
He hated not being in control, didn't ever handle it well. 

  
"Dean?" Sam asked him, voice a little uncertain. "Look at me, Dean."

  
He was completely still, on his knees in front of Sam like he was going to pray to him.

  
"Please, big brother." And suddenly there was a soft quiet, barely hearable whine leaving the older man's mouth and sad green eyes looking back at Sam. "You need me, right? You need me and I'm right here, okay? _Yours_."

  
A sound of his brother taking in a deep breath rang in Sam's ear. Dean sounded like he was in pain, yet filled with relief.

  
_"Fuck."_

  
He let out a soft moan that Sam wasn't sure he didn't just imagine and claimed his brother's lips in a kiss.

  
"Let's get the hell outta here."

  
Sam let Dean lead him by the hand back to their room.

  
He _made_ the choice to stay with Dean, even if in reality it wasn't ever a choice he got to make. He _wanted_ this and that fact gave him the tiniest bit of alleviation and it was just enough for now.

  
There was blood on him that wasn't his and a sincere smile on his brother's face.

  
He didn't look back.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it took me so long to get back to work! Gotta say, I'm a rather chaotic writer and am perfectly aware how annoying it can be, even for myself. I hope some of you were waiting for this continuation and still want to get more into that little verse I've created for my boys. And don't worry, it's nowhere near being over!  
> Thank you for all the feedback on the previous work, you're all really helping me with becoming a better creator that way :)
> 
> Huuuge thanks to my lovely beta reader; it would have never worked out without you ♥
> 
> [in case anyone would like to get the feel of the verse a little more, i have a spotify playlist i decided to share with you! here it is: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6bjRUoA2NQbAjgw7f0b6p7?si=5nGb9deESnGqFosaER_qVA]


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